


A Day in the Life of SG-1, Part III: Jack – A Man of Honor

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-08
Updated: 2004-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-07 05:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : Season 5: Meridian. Season 6: Abyss, Changeling, Full Circle. Season 7: Fallen, Orpheus, Birthright.SUMMARY : A day in the life of SG-1-- Teal’c’s birthday -- seen through the eyes of all four members of the team. On the eve of the opening of a major SGC memorial, the team reflects on their strengths and weaknesses, while one of them struggles with a burden too great to carry alone.WARNING : Mature themes. Violence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | A Day in the Life of SG-1

Opening his eyes to the darkened room, Jack stared at the ceiling for a while before turning to look at the clock beside the bed. With a heavy sigh, he reached over and turned off the alarm, still twenty minutes from ringing. He got up with a groan, his body reminding him how many campaigns he'd been through, how the years were catching up to him. Soon he'd find it necessary to retire but there were things to be done yet, people to protect. He arched his back and heard it pop and crackle all the way up.

"Teal'c's birthday," he reminded himself aloud, his voice croaking from a night of disuse. "Party tonight. Yay."

He didn't feel much like partying but then he wasn't really awake yet, either. His sleepy mind skipped over the plans for the day – team breakfast, photos, administrative meetings and then the birthday shindig. He could make it through that kind of day just fine, maybe even without coffee.

That made him think of Daniel. Back from the dead, still not all there in the memory department, but his character was unchanged. Jack stopped walking, staring down at the floor for a second. That wasn't quite true, though.

The resurrected Doctor Jackson was different, in some intangible way. Quicker with a smile than just before he… died. More intense but less overtly passionate. The passion was still there, just… leashed somehow. He was quieter, calmer, more accepting of things that used to notch his voice up in volume and send his hands into wild gesticulations of frustration. He just seemed… more grown up. Older and wiser, perhaps.

Lately, though, the man had seemed on edge. Jumpy and strung a little too tight. Pushing himself too hard, especially with the workouts they'd been doing.

Jack sensed there was more to it than that but Daniel wasn't talking. He spent most of his off time alone or with Teal'c, meditating until all hours of the night or surfing the Internet with his Jaffa shadow peering over his shoulder. Those two had become almost inseparable over the last couple of months, since bringing Brata'c and Rya'c home safely.

He turned on the hot water in the shower, letting it heat up while he peeled off his T-shirt and sweats. Still weary, he adjusted the temperature of the water and climbed in, letting the spray soak him and run down his chest for a while before engaging in his efficient bathing routine. The steam cleared his head a little, and by the time he was groomed and dressed, he was mentally halfway through his day, all the important things planned out in detail long ago.

Padding downstairs, he stopped in the living room long enough to drop his socks and shoes by the sofa and went into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. While that was underway, he returned to the sofa to put on his footwear, then returned to the kitchen for a hot cup of coffee. Carrying the mug with him to the living room, he set it down on the coffee table and switched on the overhead lights.

It was still dark outside, still early. The light from the kitchen gave enough illumination that he could see the cardboard box sitting on the coffee table in the living room, but he wanted one last look and needed good light for that. He pulled the box closer and reverently lifted the flaps, peering down inside at the neat rows of small dark blue velvet boxes. In the middle were other boxes wrapped in blue tissue.

Reaching carefully inside, he lifted the center box out, laid it on his lap and unfolded the tissue. Inside it was a handmade teak shadowbox, the front covered with a piece of beveled glass. On a long blue ribbon edged in white, a gold medal dangled. The five-pointed star at its center was enameled in white, backed by a red pentagon. At the points of the star, five gold eagles spread their wings, and within the star's heart lay a blue circle emblazoned with thirteen tiny gold stars, representing the original colonies of America. This was the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian citation ever awarded to a citizen of the United States. Originally awarded by President Truman to those who made significant contributions during WWII, President Kennedy revived the medal's use to honor distinguished civilian service in peacetime, and this one was off the books. 

The Medal of Freedom winners were publicly acclaimed, celebrated in the press for their heroism or outstanding contributions to their country. This one, because of the secrecy of Area 52, was listed with an employee number followed by the initials "SGC." One day, this award would be made public… but not today.

Jack couldn't touch the medal, sealed as it was in the shadowbox. Through the glass surface he could see it, along with the engraved brass plate mounted on the white velvet background to which the medal was fastened. The shadowbox was beautiful, worth every penny he'd paid for it, as were all the others Uncle Sam had purchased for this occasion. Jack had wanted something special for this particular medal to make it stand out from the handful of others in the cardboard box, so he'd commissioned a handmade display case for it.

This medal belonged to Daniel.

He sighed again, wondering not for the first time how the cosmic clock worked. This award had been delivered posthumously, given to Jack personally by the President himself in response to a letter Jack had written to the Pentagon. Bureaucracy moved slowly, but in this instance the timing was perfect. Jack rubbed his fingers over the glass fondly and felt his eyes burning. He blinked to clear them, wiped off the finger streaks and carefully folded the tissue back over his prize. He was as proud of this as he was of his own Medal of Honor, also nestled inside that cardboard box. Slipping it back inside the carton, he closed the flaps, took a sip of coffee and stood, carrying the cup with him.

Ambling over to the fireplace, he let his eyes rove over the collection of awards, medals and commendations so prominently on display, drinking his coffee as he looked at each one. This was his pride and joy, his proof of a life well spent and of the depth of his patriotism. Each and every medal on display was testimony to the fact that Jack O'Neill served his country; that he was a good soldier; that he had put his own life on the line for God and Country, for team and unit, time and time again. It was recognition of his character, of his valor, of his dedication and patriotism.

Today he could be proud of those emblems again. For a little over a year he hadn't been able to stomach looking at them. Shortly after Daniel's ascension, Jack had boxed them all up and put them in the attic, leaving only pictures of his team and his son on the mantle. Centered among them had been a few photographs he'd taken from Daniel's office: a portrait of Sha're; a team photo showing them all standing in a sunlit meadow; and most precious of all, a family photo of six-year-old Danny with proud parents, Melburn and Claire Jackson, taken at a dig in Italy. Jack had kept that one after he, Teal'c and Carter had cleaned out Daniel's apartment and disposed of his possessions.

The most personal things, like those photographs, had been kept by his teammates as mementos. Most of them had been given back to the man when he came home to them. Sha're's picture, Jack had noticed, ended up in Teal'c's room. He hadn't asked about that, figuring it was none of his business, something personal between Daniel and Teal'c.

So much of Daniel's life was gone, like his things, and so little of it had been replaced to help him feel more connected, like he belonged. Maybe the medal and the memorial wall could help make up for that. Daniel needed to know how much he was valued by those around him.

Tomorrow the SGC would gather in acknowledgment of the sacrifices made by those who served in the program on behalf of the human race. Only a small handful of people on the planet would be aware of it, but one day, Jack knew, that memorial would be made public. It would create a stir, as it well should. And no one, until the secret could be revealed, should ever forget those who gave their all.

Jack headed into the kitchen for the other, smaller box sitting on the dining table beside a roll of Scooby Doo wrapping paper, carefully cut off the proper amount from the roll and began to fold the paper over the box. He didn't do this very often anymore, but liked for the gifts he presented to look nice and neat, with perfect square corners and neatly taped closures covered by ribbons and bows. When he was sure the wrapping job would pass muster, he returned to the living room and set the present on top of the cardboard box full of medals, gathered his keys and wallet and left for the base.

The Walls were Carter's babies, and Jack couldn't have been more proud of her for not only conceiving the idea, but following it through to completion. She had campaigned for it with the SGC administration and taken her cause all the way to Washington, garnering the necessary support, getting the funding, arranging for special log books to be kept for the medals and commendations awarded. She had worked tirelessly on the project for the better part of a year, and now, on this auspicious date, it was all coming together. These were the last pieces, and once the photos were printed and slipped into their frames, it would be complete.

The photo shoot was scheduled for shortly after breakfast and all required personnel had been informed to be there or incur his wrath. Sergeant Siler promised the color prints would be ready by the end of the shift and Jack was counting on that. If there were any delays, heads would roll, starting with Siler's. Jack had every confidence that everything would come off without a hitch.

He climbed into his truck, started the engine and switched on the radio while the truck warmed up. In the dark quiet, he punched the pre-set station buttons looking for traffic and weather reports. Landing on one, he backed out of the driveway and into the street, easing away from home before any of the neighbors had even risen to start their day. 

"In other news, the Colorado Springs ninja has made yet another mysterious appearance at a crime in progress," the radio announcer said brightly. "The unknown hero apparently came in through the window of a third floor apartment in time to stop an intruder who had allegedly broken into the apartment to assault at woman sleeping in her bed. The Man in Black managed to pull the alleged attacker off the woman and restrain him, ordering the woman to call the police while our hero immobilized the alleged attacker."

With a sigh, Jack turned onto the highway. Whoever the ninja guy was, he was going to get himself killed. "Idiot," Jack rasped, but there was also a little twinge of respect mixed in with that assessment. He swung the truck easily into the fast lane as the newscaster droned on in the quiet. 

"By the time police arrived, the Man in Black had pulled his standard disappearing act and was nowhere to be found. Police are still uncertain how this masked avenger locates crimes in progress but they are anxious to talk with him. The Springs seems to be breathing a sigh of relief with the shadow of this unknown hero watching over us. However he manages this feat, many citizens feel safer knowing he's out there somewhere, our own personal superhero, come to life. The police, however, feel that this mysterious man's luck may soon run out—"

Pushing another button, Jack turned on the local NPR station for some classical music. In minutes he had made his way to the base, parked and signed in, then headed straight for the commissary. Pausing for a moment in the doorway, he scanned the seated personnel in search of his teammates, and found Daniel and Teal'c bent over their plates in quiet conversation.

Jack couldn't help but notice how tired Daniel looked and that he had his shades on again, most likely indicating another migraine. Maybe it was time he put a word in Doc Fraiser's ear and had the little Napoleon drag their archaeologist down to the infirmary for a good once-over. At least he was eating, which was always a good sign. Then again, he usually remembered to do breakfast. It was the other meals he forgot on a regular basis.

Drawing in a deep breath, Jack gathered his courage and let fly with his horrific version of the birthday song. Grimaces on all the faces suddenly staring up at him in stunned disbelief confirmed the fact that he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but this was for Teal'c. Jack would much rather serenade his teammate there in the commissary than in a public restaurant, where the real birthday celebration would later be held.

The Jaffa stood up partway through the song and surveyed the room with a threatening glare, shutting people up wherever he looked. Jack loved how he could do that; intimidate people with just a look. By the time the song was done, only Jack and Daniel were still singing. He smiled as he stopped by the table to greet the birthday boy, then headed for the chow line.

Moments later, Carter breezed in and sat down with her ever-present blue Jell-O, accompanied by a strawberry yogurt and a banana. Then they argued about where they'd be having dinner until Teal'c confirmed the pub was, indeed, his choice. Jack could already taste that ribeye, marinated in Irish whisky and flame broiled to perfection.

He shoveled in his eggs and bacon, listening as Daniel teased Carter about his birthday serenade. He leaned back in his seat and gave them both the full colonel glare, right down his nose. Only they didn't look, so he told the younger man to cut it out.

Returning to his breakfast, he speared a piece of sliced strawberry with his fork. "So, is Siler ready upstairs? We gonna get this show on the road today?"

Sam nodded, her mouth full.

Jack swallowed the strawberry he'd barely chewed. "Is everybody ready for their close-ups? I am. Conditioned, exfoliated and everything."

"Yes, sir. I put my things in the studio just now," Carter agreed after swallowing a mouthful of yogurt. "I think I should've had a haircut but there wasn't time." Her left hand smoothed nervously at her nape, checking the length against her collar.

Jack stared obliquely at her. "You have hair, major?" He blinked. "If it were purple or you were suddenly bald, I'd probably notice. You look fine."

She flashed him a bemused smile. "I'll get it cut tomorrow on my way in." She scooped up another mouthful of gelatin and shook her head in wonder.

"I'm just about done with my mission prep for next week, so be getting your gear together," he reminded them, already thinking ahead to the scheduled trip off-world to PX7-44Niner. That one was going to be winter gear all the way, with at least a week planned to knock around the ice towers sculpted into the white landscape. "Prepare to freeze your asses off, kids, and I don't wanna hear any complaining." He sighed. If only there were hills and snow skis, maybe with a chair lift to take the work out of getting back uphill, he might be able to have a little fun on that planet, but fun was never on the off-world agenda.

"I hate snow," Daniel moaned. "It's so damn cold."

"Well, duh," Jack shot back. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Carter grinned and took a bite of her banana.

Teal'c seemed to be ignoring them all in favor of the dwindling mountain of food on his plate.

Jack sighed. "Having a couple weeks off with nobody broken or sick has been nice, but we knew it wouldn't last."

"That's been quite a change," Daniel agreed. "Everybody healthy and sitting at our desks all day. I'm practically bored to tears."

Jack reminded his younger teammate about offers to engage in social activities, all of which had gone down in flames. Jack steered the conversation back to work while he watched Daniel draw on his plate. 

The man really needed to get a life, something besides work that might get him out of the mountain and let him have a little fun. Jack wondered if Daniel actually understood the concept of fun and smiled as he remembered Jell-O wrestling. He shot a glance up to the Jaffa and made a mental note to check out that place and see if they were still holding the same events. If they were, he and Teal'c would shortly be taking their scholarly friend out for a little mindless entertainment soon.

Daniel had been practically monosyllabic for a good two hours following that first time, when he could actually use real words and not just make inarticulate throat noises.

"I shall take my leave and adjourn to the studio," Teal'c announced, wiping his lips on a napkin. "I will see you all there shortly." He stood, bowed slightly, and took his tray to the disposal window.

"See ya, T," Jack called, stuffing his mouth with another bite of buttered toast and eggs. "Carter, have you got those test results on that alien doohickey we brought back from…" He drew a blank on the planet designation and stopped chewing, searching his mind for it.

"Two-three-Y," she supplied instantly. "Yes, sir. The technicians finished the validation study during last night's shift and I'll be reviewing the data this afternoon. I'll get the report written up and on your desk by the end of the day, providing there are no anomalies that need additional study."

"Good. I probably won't understand a word of it, but at least I'll be able to tell General Hammond I've seen it." He turned to the man at his left. "Daniel, you fallin' asleep, there?"

The younger man was leaning on his left hand, his body at a strong leftward tilt, the flesh of his face pulled out of shape by the heel of his hand so that his mouth was a crooked slash across his face and he could only see out of his right eye through the dark lenses. He sighed deeply. "No, just thinking." He put his fork down and straightened up, wincing at the movement and issuing a soft groan. He stared down at his empty plate. 

"You're kinda distracted there, Daniel. Somethin' wrong? I mean, besides the headache." Jack stuffed the last bite of toast into his mouth and started stacking his utensils onto his plate.

"I'm fine," Daniel answered automatically. Listlessly. He yawned and made no attempt to cover his mouth with his hand. Then he stretched his eyes wide, blinked several times, straightened and took a deep breath. He seemed to wake up a little more.

"Off we go," Jack announced, picking up his tray and leading the charge to the studio on Level 17.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Jack glanced at Daniel's black T- shirt and green fatigue pants. "Aren't you short a few threads? And your regular glasses. You'll need those. The coolness of the shades isn't necessary for these shots."

They rounded the corner of the doorway with Daniel frowning in thought. His eyebrows lifted and he snapped his fingers. "I forgot my jacket!" he blurted, pivoted on his heel and headed back to the elevator.

Jack and the major eased quietly into the studio, watching Siler working with Teal'c. It never ceased to be a source of pride to have a man like that on his team. Teal'c was the perfect warrior: physically intimidating, unflappable and loyal to a fault. He was also fun, allowing Jack to talk to his heart's content or not say a word as the mood struck, going along with whatever hare-brained activity Jack planned without complaint and just generally being good company. Teal'c never put on airs or treated him like anything other than his commanding officer and brother-in-arms, and that was priceless. Jack had few friends like that, people who took him at face value and knew the riches that lay beneath the surface. Only a handful of people ever got to see the real Jack O'Neill, and the rest of them were on his team as well.

He teased the big guy all through the shoot, eventually realizing that Daniel seemed to be MIA. Just when he thought he ought to start looking for the younger man, he turned to see Daniel standing in the doorway of the multi-purpose room, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at the lights and the backdrop, watching Sergeant Siler work the light meter with Carter as his new model. Daniel eyed the clothing rack nearby where Jack's Class A's hung, still in their dry cleaning wrap, along with several other outfits, enough for twenty people.

Jack spied the younger man, now sporting his regular frames, and called him over to where he and Teal'c stood watching.

"Hi, Daniel," Sam called, waving a little. "What took you so long?"

"I had to go to the locker room for my fatigue jacket and my quarters for my glasses," replied Daniel nervously. "What's with all the clothes? And why is Teal'c in his armor?" His eyes swept up and down the tall Jaffa, gleaming in his silver armor, staff weapon held familiarly in his right hand.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Did you not read the memo, DanielJackson? These portraits are to show us in several aspects. A variety of costumes will be necessary to reveal all our many facets."

Daniel looked down at himself. "This and my blue robes from Vis Uban are all I have. You guys gave away all my clothes after I di—asc-- left. I bought a pair of jeans and some sweaters, but that's the extent of my wardrobe for the moment. I've hardly been off the base in the last couple of months."

"Which will shortly be addressed," Jack reminded him with a nudge of his elbow and the ghost of a smile. "Party at 1900 hours. Be there or I'll hunt you down and drag you kicking and screaming away from your desk." He bounced on his toes a little and loosed a playful smile.

"I know. I wouldn't miss Teal'c's birthday party, Jack." Daniel smiled up at the tallest man in their group and received an elegant nod of approval. Daniel's smile faded as he regarded the clothing rack again. "But like I said, all I've got is fatigues. Should I get my BDUs? What about my robes?"

"Yeah, bring whatcha got `cause we're gonna do casual and full length group shots, too. Robes, jeans, the whole nine yards." Jack saw Daniel's discomfiture and knew that the younger man didn't like to have his picture taken. O'Neill had heard Carter discuss that with Daniel once when she complained about not having any pictures of him to put with her other family and team photos. At every opportunity thereafter, when she had asked Daniel to pose with her or the others on the team, Daniel dutifully had not complained. He didn't always smile on cue but there were a few shots where the younger man was positively beaming. Those were Carter's favorites, ones she kept on her desk and at home.

Jack had been a little envious of some of those photos after Daniel ascended and intended to ask for copies but had never done it. They were her photographs and he could look at them and remember Daniel whenever he visited her office or on the rare occasions when he and Teal'c were at her home.

These, however, were for a wholly different purpose. Jack watched Daniel's back as he hurried away, leading with his head as he always did when he walked with his mind focused on a single objective. When Daniel was out of sight, Jack turned to watch Siler again, flashing the umbrella lights and checking something with a little thingamabob Carter was holding. He and Teal'c talked quietly for a moment, until he began to grow impatient.

"You gonna get started sometime today, Siler?" Jack nudged.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant shot back without looking up. "Ready to start now." He took the gadget from Carter and stepped back. "Okay, major, let's do a three-quarter pose looking up and to my left." He held his left hand up in the air, and her eyes went to it. He moved around until he had her head at the proper angle, then pushed a plunger on a long cord attached to his camera, and all the lights flashed at once. "Nice. Okay, one more, then get your BDU jacket and put that on."

"No flag in the background, sergeant?" Jack asked, taking note of the wide roll of green paper that formed their backdrop. "I thought these were supposed to be formal portraits."

Another flash went off and Carter got up to get her jacket. "He'll be digitally inserting the backgrounds according to what shots he needs," she told him. "Some will have the Stargate for a background with an American flag furling in place of the event horizon. Some will have the standard flag at parade rest, others—"

"As long as the flags are there," Jack cut in, "I don't care how they get there. I just thought this looked kind of… naked. Unpatriotic. There should be flags."

The major grinned. The flashes went off, capturing that. "Yes, sir, there will be. Green screens help the photographer drop in pre- selected backgrounds. They're also used in movies for special effects, things blowing up, space ships and such."

Frowning, Jack cocked his head back, drawing his brows together to appear confused. "You mean, they don't actually film Wormhole X-treme in space? Huh. Imagine that."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Carter laughed. Siler took a picture of Carter laughing.

Jack suspected the sergeant might have a thing for the pretty major.

"Okay, Class A's next after this, major," Siler called.

Sam took her BDU jacket off the rack and when that shot was done, she snagged her dress blues and retreated behind a dressing screen set up just for that purpose.

"Hey, did you guys hear about the Man in Black?" asked Siler as he adjusted the umbrellas slightly. "Made another appearance last night."

"He's gonna get himself killed, stupid do-gooder," Jack rasped. He leaned way over to the left, pretending to sneak a peek behind the privacy screen. Teal'c's hand gently caught at his jacket sleeve and pulled him upright again just as Daniel returned from the locker room. He hung up his BDUs on the rack and Siler sat him down on the stool while they waited for Sam.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Still, he's helping, out there. Saved a woman's life."

"Who did?" asked Daniel, trying to get comfortable.

"The Man in Black."

"Who's that?" His heavy brows scrunched together in confusion.

"Some ninja wanna-be," Jack explained. "Don't you listen to the news, Danny-boy?"

Daniel cocked his head with an impatient sigh. "No radio, Jack. No car with a radio and no TV. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. The guy's a one-man crime stopper, right here in the Springs. The press likes him but the cops aren't too thrilled about the whole vigilante deal. He's showin' `em up, making them look bad. If he can get to the crimes in progress, why can't the police? That's what the press is sayin', anyway."

"Does he wear some kind of costume?" Daniel asked, obviously intrigued by this idea. 

"He does not," Teal'c assured him. "He merely dresses in black and wears a motorcycle helmet or mask that obscures his face, thus ensuring that he cannot be identified. He is a clever man and a great warrior."

"He's a nutcase, is what he is," Jack argued vehemently. "Certifiable."

Daniel frowned, glaring at Jack. "If he's dangerous, the police will catch him eventually." He shrugged, obviously thinking. "Unless he is a cop and they're trying to find a way around regulations by having one of their own bag the bad guys in ways they can't."

"That is an interesting theory, DanielJackson," the Jaffa rumbled. "I do not believe I have heard it mentioned. Perhaps we should do some research on the Man in Black later this evening."

"As long as you're not late for dinner, T," Jack cut in, patting the taller man on the shoulder. He sighed. "It's getting bad when the Springs has its own tabloid superhero running around in tights."

"Tights?" asked Siler. "I haven't heard that."

"I'm just sayin'. If he's doin' the Batman thing, he probably wears `em." Jack shrugged. "Take pictures, Siler. We haven't got all day, here." He waved at the subject on the stool impatiently.

"Do you want your glasses on or off?" Siler asked Daniel, fiddling with the camera.

"Both," said Jack.

Daniel cast a confused gaze his way.

"If we get reflections on the lenses, we'll have backups," Jack clarified.

Those eyebrows lifted in acquiescence, and Daniel waited to be posed.

It seemed hours had passed before they got to Jack's portraits, followed by the team shots, which Jack knew were the last on the list. Aside from some horsing around – which Siler captured neatly on film – those went quickly and Teal'c disappeared to start his workout in the gym. Jack whispered in Siler's ear and he nodded, waiting patiently by the camera. Carter caught the look in his eye and headed for the garment rack.

"There's one more shot Carter wants," Jack told Daniel, nodding at the major. "Go get that black garment bag she's holding and take it over yonder." He nodded toward the privacy screen, his eyes twinkling. "Get a move on, too. I've got important colonel things to do."

"What is it?" Daniel just stared at the bag.

"Daniellllll." The impatient tone of voice was answer enough. 

He watched Daniel stride over to the garment rack and unzip the bag where it hung on Carter's fingers, peeling the opaque wrapper off. Beneath it, a pale gray-blue silk suit hung over an azure blue shirt, just the color of Daniel's eyes. Draped across the neck was a navy blue tie, pinned with a tie-tac in the shape of silver wings.

There was wonder and surprise in Daniel's expression as he studied the new clothes. He looked at Sam, a question in his eyes. 

Sam smiled warmly at him. "Like you said, we gave away all your clothes. We thought you should have a nice suit for your formal portrait, so we took up a collection. Janet and I picked it out. There are dress shoes and socks to match in the box under the garment rack. You won't need `em for the portrait but you will when you wear your new suit tomorrow for the official inspection."

All the memos relating to the ceremony the next day referred to it as a formal inspection, just so it would be a surprise for Daniel, but everybody else on the base knew what was really going to take place: the dedication of the Littlefield Wall of Honor and the Jackson Memorial Wall, along with the presentation of the medals to their recipients. It was a big day for the whole base and Daniel was still clueless.

"It's beautiful, Sam. Wow. I can't believe you guys did this for me. This is great." His eyes were wide and blinking and his voice was very soft and small when he added, "Thank you." Daniel's hands touched the cloth, rubbing the lapel between thumb and fingers, smoothing down the front. He took it from her and pulled it close to his chest, almost hugging it as he walked to the changing area.

Carter turned to her C.O. with a knowing grin. "I think he liked it, sir."

"You gals have good taste," he answered with a nod, and turned his attention to the photographer. "Just do him up good in this one, Siler. This is the one that counts." He held up his hands, indicating the size of the portrait, then gave the sergeant a thumbs-up.

"Will do, sir."

Jack ambled close and peered over Siler's shoulder to see what he was doing. The sergeant shot him a questioning look, and Jack decided he'd played curious little boy long enough and backed off before he really got in the way. He stayed long enough to see Daniel emerge, walking slowly and looking down at himself in delight. His fingers brushed the sleeve, enjoying the tactile sensations of the silk against his skin.

His tie was crooked, though. As Daniel took his seat on the stool, Carter stepped up and fixed it, turning the tie-tac until the wings were at the proper angle. "That's my dad's tie-tac," she told him. "Now it belongs to you. You're the only guy I know who's earned wings of a whole other kind…" She made a circle with her fingers and held it over her head to indicate a halo. "…and he and Selmak aren't gonna be wearing this again, so we wanted you to have it." 

"I don't think I've ever owned a suit as nice as this one, Sam. Thank you." Daniel's eyes were earnest as he watched her fuss over him. He was obviously moved and hugged her for a moment before she stepped away, leaving to start her workday in the lab.

"Okay, Daniel, sit up straight…"

With a little wave and a smile, Jack left them, sure that whatever expression Siler pulled out of the scientist would be the right one. Jack thought about the significance of that photograph, then turned around and went back into the room.

"Forget something, sir?" asked Siler, taking notice.

Jack eyed Daniel, standing close to Siler with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. "I was just thinking, Daniel. Do you remember the first look you got at the cover stones?"

"Yes, why?"

"Close your eyes for a minute. Really remember."

Daniel obeyed. He slumped a little, tipping his head back as he had done when he entered that display room, where the cover stones were attached to the wall. He reached back into memory for that feeling of awe, that frisson of excitement as he stared at the huge, wondrous carving unlike anything he'd ever seen unearthed. A tiny little smile danced at the corners of his mouth.

"Now, open your eyes," Jack commanded softly.

Still looking up, Daniel obeyed, the vision of that marvelous beginning washing over him and showing in his face.

Jack touched Siler's arm. The photographer understood instantly… and took the picture.

Daniel jerked around to face them, startled by the flash. "What?"

"That was one shot I wanted. Now sit up straight and see if you can do it again." Jack grinned as Daniel shot him a warning look from beneath his lashes. "First view of the Stargate, Daniel. Remember that? Or standing on the ramp, going through it the first time."

A dreamy look settled over the man's face as he smiled, staring off into space as he recalled that moment when it all truly began.

The lights flashed and Daniel didn't move, still lost in memory.

"That's a wrap, Doctor Jackson," Siler announced. He flipped the switch on a small generator sitting on the floor and the umbrella lights went out.

Looking a little startled, Daniel asked, "That's it? We're done?"

"Back to work," Jack said lightly, flicking an imaginary whip. "Don't you have some translations or somethin' to do?"

Daniel slid off the stool. He looked down at his sleeve and touched it fondly again. "Yeah... This suit feels like a million bucks, Jack. I hate to have to take it off, but… maybe I'll wear it to the party tonight." He smiled.

"Do that and the waitress'll be handing you the check," Jack teased. "Don't forget our training session later." He hesitated, smiling at his friend. "Carter and Fraiser did good, huh? You look like a scientist again in that. Like Doctor Jackson." Jack had missed that but he wasn't going to admit it to anybody. He cuffed the man lightly on the shoulder playfully. "Don't be late, Daniel. You know how I hate waiting." He hurried out to get started on the rest of his day, hoping there would be time enough for Siler to finish by the deadline.

Jack headed for the locker room where he had temporarily stowed his cardboard box full of goodies. Removing the small box wrapped in birthday paper, he left it on the shelf in his locker and then took the rest to Carter's office. She wasn't there. On a hunch, he went up to 11, stepping behind the partitions to find her tallying up tasks on her clipboard.

"Carter," he called softly, not wanting to startle her. "We gonna get this puppy whipped into shape on time?"

Her head whirled around to glance at him before returning to her checklist. "If Siler gets done on time, yes, sir. I'll be hanging the pictures on twenty-eight early this afternoon and that one will be done. Our group shot's the only one we're missing at this point, so we can count that one as almost complete. This one…" She glanced up at the Wall. "Siler may have to skip counting sheep tonight but I'm sure he'll come through for us, considering who's coming." She smiled at him conspiratorially.

Jack nodded. He handed the box toward her and she nodded him toward the desk.

"Just set it over there, sir. I'll take them out and place them in a minute." She scribbled a few more notes.

He stepped behind the desk and began taking the smaller boxes out, carefully unwrapping the presentation boxes and shadow boxes and setting them out in neat rows. "Ever seen one of these in person, Carter?" he asked solemnly, opening the lids on the velvet presentation boxes before setting them down on the desk.

"No, sir." She finished writing and came around behind the desk, standing next to him and eyeing the medals. "They're beautiful. Wow." Sam had to touch one. Picking up a velvet box, she stroked the satin ribbon and let her fingertips stray over the colorful enameled surface. Respectfully, she set it back down. "They deserve these."

"They deserved a lot more than a piece of metal," Jack murmured. He slid the Medal of Freedom to the beginning of the row and stood looking at it. Then he turned and looked at the empty space on the wall behind him. All around that spot pictures hung in beautiful wooden frames, pictures of people no longer available to receive the medals that would be affixed to the Wall beside their portraits, until such time as the SGC went public and their relatives might receive the medals personally.

"Yes, sir," Carter agreed, turning with him. "But sometimes, we get lucky. Sometimes they come back."

He looked at the years-old formal portrait of Major Charlie Kawalski and nodded. "And in other universes, they're still alive." He sighed. So much death, he thought, his eyes moving from face to face. In the years to come, there would be many more. 

He picked up the teak shadowbox, admiring how it stood out from the walnut ones that enclosed the other medals. Carefully wiping a fingerprint off the glass, he set it back down, remembering Daniel as he lay dying in the infirmary, wrapped up like a mummy in bandages. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and stepped away from the desk, heading for the door without a backward glance.

"Good work, Carter," he said huskily. "Let me know when it's finished."

"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

"Even if it's 0200."

"Yes, sir."

He strolled out of the room with the cardboard box filled with tissue tucked under his arm, looking for a waste bin big enough to hold it. Once he'd tossed it properly, he headed for the locker room to change and found Daniel already there, carefully removing his suit and slipping into sweats. Jack stopped in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Okay, where is Daniel Jackson and what have you done with him?" he demanded.

Daniel glanced up, eyebrows lifted, mouth drawn up in that inquisitive bow. "Huh?"

"You beat me here," Jack explained. "What's wrong with you? Normally I have to go find you and browbeat you into working out."

"Oh. I just…" One hand waved in the air as he hung the suit jacket on the clothing bar in his closet. "…I was… I found a stopping point, Jack. It's no big deal. I can be on time for things."

"Yeah? When?"

"Now." Daniel eyed him coolly, hanging up his pants. "Aren't you going to change? God forbid I should actually beat you to the gym."

"Never happen," Jack challenged. 

Half a second later, both men were stripping and dressing in their sweats at light speed. Jack kept glancing at him, trying to catch up and get a little ahead but Daniel had a good head start. The tie and the buttons on his dress shirt slowed him down enough that Jack was even with him when he got down to his boxers, and by the time they got their shoes on they were both panting and pointing at each other.

"I beat you!" Daniel crowed, a wide grin on his face. "Even with the buttons!

"Did not," Jack shot back, pouting. "I won."

"Did not."

"Did, too."

They argued back and forth light-heartedly, stepping closer and closer until they were glaring in each other's faces, barely able to suppress their smiles. Finally, each leaned back and crossed arms over their chests, drawing up manfully just before they lost it and laughed. "We'll call it a draw, then," Jack suggested, sticking out his hand.

Daniel stiffened slightly, chin cranking up a little as if he was going to challenge that ruling. Then he exhaled heavily, the ghost of a laugh on his lips as he smiled. "Deal." He shook the proffered hand firmly.

That had felt good. It was fun and wonderful to see that the younger man was recovering some of his sense of play. Daniel did so little of that, and Jack really wanted to encourage him in it. He clapped the man on the shoulder and gave him a playful shove toward the door. "Let's go, Danny-boy. Time for me to kick your ass."

Daniel spun out of Jack's grasp before he could get the push going and turned around with a grin. "Oh, yeah? Says who?" He gave Jack a taunting little tap on the shoulder.

"Says your colonel, geek."

"Who're you calling a geek, smart-ass?"

"Know-it-all."

"Old fart. I'll be kicking your butt before you know it." Daniel jostled him with his shoulder.

"In what universe? Dream on, bookworm." Jack gave him another easy little shove.

With a snort, Daniel fell into step beside him and argued playfully all the way to the elevator and up to the gym on Level 15. 

"You feelin' better?" asked Jack as the doors opened. "I see you lost the shades. You don't look like your ready to keel over any second now."

Daniel nodded, walking beside Jack down the corridor. "Yeah, sometimes the migraine meds Janet prescribed just take a little while to kick in, but it does help. I think I can manage a good workout today."

"You've gotten a lot better at using your fists," said Jack admiringly as they strolled into the gym. "I thought we might do some take-downs, maybe some arm locks, a little falling and rolling. You got anything in particular you wanna work on today?"

Daniel nodded, looking at the floor as they walked. "Maybe some leg sweeps? Some exotic stuff, fighting from a position like… on my knees, maybe? I mean, somebody might knock me down and I'll know how to fight my way back to my feet or take an attacker down who's still standing when I'm not."

"Oooh, the good stuff! You're on, buddy." Jack clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically and moved off to the mats, slipping off his Nikes. "Warm-ups first," he ordered, and started doing jumping jacks and arm circles to get his blood pumping.

Daniel sat down on the mats and slowly, gracefully, began to stretch his legs, leaning down over them in a graceful glide. That done, he moved to hands and knees, extending his left arm and right leg, balancing and stretching his back, shoulders and legs. Rising to his feet, he noticed Jack watching him.

"Where'd you learn that yoga shit, Daniel?" Jack asked between exercises.

"Sam's been teaching me," the younger man admitted. "She says it's making me more graceful." He frowned a little. "Um, not that I needed to be graceful or anything, but…" He shrugged and stepped into The Warrior posture, legs in a lunge and palms pressed together high over his head. "They're great exercises for toning the muscles and warming up and I don't get out of breath doing them."

He moved slowly out of the posture and winced.

"You okay?" Jack asked, catching a glimpse of that expression of pain.

"I'm fine."

"You always say that, even when you're bleeding and obviously not fine," Jack countered. "You need to come up with a more original answer to that question, one that actually gives some information."

"I just…" Daniel hesitated. "I tripped on the stairs and fell against the railing, is all." He put his right hand on his ribs for a moment, then started another posture.

A frisson of alarm shot through Jack. There weren't that many stairs that people in the facility often used. Most of them were emergency access for when the elevators weren't running. The other two sets of commonly used stairs were the ones joining levels 27 and 28, both leading up to the briefing room. 

Everyone on the base had been involved in the conspiracy to quietly keep Daniel away from there for the past two days, so he wouldn't see what was going up in that hallway.

"Which stairs?" Jack asked.

"To the briefing room. I went up to see General Hammond yesterday afternoon."

Jack just stared at the man, unable to believe he'd just caught Daniel in a lie. He gritted his teeth and said nothing. Daniel had lied to him and done it without batting an eyelash! What kind of friendship did they have when Daniel would do that? More importantly, what was Daniel covering up with the lie?

They needed to talk but there wouldn't be time today. Maybe tomorrow after the excitement died down, he'd take his teammate aside and clear the air between them. Jack didn't like the idea of this breach of trust and didn't intend to take it lying down.

"That's enough warm-ups," he suggested. "Let's get to it, shall we? Daniel, Kree!"

The younger man came up and stood casually, face to face, arms dangling at his sides.

"Ready stance," Jack ordered.

Daniel just stood there. "I'm ready."

Jack's hands settled on his hips and he frowned, growing more irritated with his friend by the moment. "Do it like I taught you."

Tilting his head, Daniel replied, "Sometimes the first blow will come out of nowhere. I won't always be in a ready stance. Let's do it this way sometimes. Okay?"

"Okay, Jackson. We'll do it your way. Let's see just how ready you are."

Gritting his teeth, Jack decided that Daniel Jackson was probably the most stubborn human being ever born. He lashed out at the man with his foot, aiming a kick at Daniel's ribs. Jackson sidestepped and avoided the kick, then came back with a punch to Jack's midsection. Catching Daniel's wrist with his left hand, Jack stepped in close, applied the right pressure to Daniel's left shoulder, swept one foot out from under him and dropped him flat onto his back. He listened to the air whoosh out of the man's lungs with a note of satisfaction.

Maybe he wasn't getting too old after all.

He bent over Daniel. "You okay down there?"

"Fine," Daniel ground out.

Jack watched Daniel get slowly to his feet. "Okay, let's try some take-downs for a while. You can throw me around a little, and then I'll make you pay for it. Wanna see how I did that?"

Daniel glared, pouting. "I know how you did it, Jack. I just can't believe I fell for it again."

"Okay, so maybe we'll move on to that cool stuff you wanted instead. Ready?" 

The younger man's face took on a look of grim determination as Jack knelt on the mats, ignoring the discomfort, and guided Daniel through an attack to demonstrate defensive maneuvers. As soon as he'd been through them once, he got up slowly, walked the stiffness out of his knees, and let Daniel take the kneeling position with himself as the attacker. He had Daniel make the moves at slower than normal speed, critiquing his technique and body alignment, correcting him, and then trying them out full speed.

Jack managed to stay upright most of the time, but Daniel wasn't as adept at pulling his punches and landed some that got a few grunts out of his sparring partner. Daniel learned fast, picking up the unusual moves efficiently, and after fifteen minutes they switched back to take-downs. 

Daniel hit the floor a couple of times and Jack offered his hand to help him up. The younger man was obviously suffering, and Jack knew it wasn't from the few falls Daniel had taken. Jack had seen the bruises while they were changing clothes, and it disturbed him.

He was just about to say something when Teal'c caught Daniel's attention.

Both heads turned toward the Jaffa, and Jack watched a rubber training knife sail through the air and land in Daniel's hand without the slightest bobble.

A startled gasp escaped Jack. "Whoa. Nice catch," he said softly. When had Daniel learned to do that? Jack wondered.

"Try that technique again, O'Neill," Teal'c challenged.

"Why? Don't you think I've beaten Daniel up enough?" Jack returned. He'd been about to call things to a close for the day. Teal'c's eyebrow answered and with a sigh Jack turned back to his student and issued the challenge to begin.

Daniel flipped the knife around in his hand. Not many people used a blade in that fashion. Those who did usually knew what they were doing. Daniel just liked the way it felt… or so he said.

The next thing Jack knew, he'd just been disemboweled and killed in two beautifully efficient, precise moves.

For a moment, Jack had seen the glitter of intent in those blue eyes. There had been no hesitation, no holding back of force. Even now, Jack could feel the rubber burn across his throat from the friction of the dull edge pressing and pulling against his skin.

There was no question about Daniel's abilities any more. He was a warrior, hardened from years in the field. Jack had little more to teach him. Show him how to improve the use of his fists and his feet and in no time at all he'd be a far better fighter than his Special Ops-trained commander. When Daniel Jackson learned something, he learned it all the way to his core.

He looked up at the obvious pride in Teal'c's face as he watched Daniel walking away, and remembered what day it was. "Enough of the talk about work, T. It's your birthday. Go have fun striking fear into the new kids." He clapped the big guy on the shoulder and followed Daniel out of the gym.

While he showered, he thought about his teammate. Daniel had come a long way in the last eight years. He could certainly hold his own in the field now and Jack had no problem trusting him at his back. That look on Daniel's face in the gym was haunting him, though. So intent, so dangerous… and an instant later, consumed with fear.

Why would Daniel be afraid of him?

Then his face had closed up completely. Daniel was hiding something. He was afraid the knife thing would give it away, wasn't he? 

Jack stood still in the shower, letting the hot spray hit him in the face, holding his breath. He heard Daniel turn off the water and leave and Jack leaned forward, resting his palms against the tile wall. The water ran down his back at that angle, and he stared at the floor, still puzzling over what had happened in the gym.

Jack shook his head, chiding himself for the ridiculous idea that leaped up in his mind. There was no way Daniel Jackson could be the Colorado Springs ninja. He was too smart for that kind of nonsense. 

He finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, intending to have a word with Daniel before he left, but the man must have decided to work on his dressing speed and raced the clock to get out ahead of his C.O. Jack shrugged off the thought and put on his fatigues and boots, resigning himself to the remainder of a quiet day on the base.

Half an hour later he was nodding off in a briefing meeting for all the senior officers. He doodled on his notepad, trying desperately to stay awake and focus. He sneaked a peek at Hammond's pad and saw that the older man was covertly drawing naked women in the corners of his notes. Jack smiled. Hammond was actually pretty good.

Talk turned to security measures for the visitors the following day. Jack's attention stayed riveted on that topic, questioning Major Kelly, the SGC's chief of security, by looking at planning from a tactical standpoint and poking holes in every weakness he could find. When he had done that sufficiently well, he turned the meeting back over to the general, who thanked him for his insight and suggested that the weaknesses be covered ASAP. 

When they were dismissed, Jack cornered Major Kelly privately and apologized for being so blunt in the meeting. Kelly assured him he expected nothing less and expressed admiration for the colonel's expertise. He shook the major's hand and offered to help with the project, but Kelly assured Jack all would be done in time and went on to see to getting things set up for the visitors the next day.

Jack checked his watch. Lunch had come and gone during the meeting and, rather than ruin his appetite for that steak dinner by having a snack, he headed for his office. There were a couple of reports needing to be finished up. When that was done he stared at the phone for a moment, willing it to ring. Only it didn't. Carter hadn't called with a progress report and he had to take it on faith that things were still going smoothly and the photographs would be finished, framed and hung in time. 

With a sigh, he shut up his office and returned to the locker room to change into civvies. The restaurant wasn't too fancy or fast food, so the festivities called for something casual but nice. He had chosen a nice pair of black jeans, a pale blue sport shirt and his leather jacket over that.

He arrived at the restaurant at 1830 hours and ordered a beer which he sipped while he waited for the others to arrive. Teal'c and Daniel came in together, followed by Carter. She still had nothing to report and Jack was considering calling Siler up to check on his progress. But that would have to wait till after the party was over. 

If he or Carter still hadn't heard from the man by the end of the evening, he might go light a fire under him or see if he could lend a hand to get things done faster, but he had every confidence that the sergeant was working as fast as he could. They'd taken a lot of photographs that morning and while Jack didn't know beans about adding in backgrounds and such, he imagined that stuff didn't happen at the snap of somebody's fingers. It would take time and he had to be patient.

Jack was just about to tell Daniel to stop squirming in his seat when the food arrived. For a moment, all Jack could see was that beautiful steak, marinated in Irish whisky. He leaned over the platter and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Ah, drunken Angus. It just doesn't get better than that."

Carter smirked, then chuckled and shook her head.

"What?"

"Nothing, sir. Really."

He sat up straight, glaring a challenge down his nose. "Spill it, Carter."

"When I worked at the Pentagon, there was this guy named Angus…"

"I don't think we really need to go there, do we, Jack?" Daniel asked with a grin.

Jack looked down at his steak. Drunken Angus, he repeated to himself. "No. No, I want to hear this. Was Angus a funny drunk?"

"Well, sir, you had to know him," Carter burbled. "He was a genius fix-it guy, real problem solver, true nice guy. In fact, we took up using his last name to mean `creating unique solutions.' Only when he got drunk he got really… uh… sexy."

She blushed.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes, sir. And I think… we should just leave that story right there. Sir. Please."

"Okay, Carter. We'll just assume from here on out that you enjoyed your drunken Angus as much as I'm about to enjoy mine." He grinned down at his plate as he carved off a piece of the juicy steak and popped it into his mouth. "Mmmmmmm…"

Her face turned beet red but she was laughing. "Yes, sir. We'll assume I did."

After that, silence fell while they all dived into their food. Teal'c apparently approved of his new taste experience, and Jack stole a piece of sausage to make sure the Bangers and Mash were up to his exacting standards. Carter's potato encrusted salmon looked good, too; the fish cooked just enough to be tender without being dry. Daniel scooped up a forkful of his boxty and deposited it on Jack's plate, but he ignored that and got his own, with plenty of seafood and cheese, topped with cream sauce. Then he ate the second bite Daniel had given him and turned the rest of his attention on devouring his steak.

"The cook gets an `A' tonight," he announced. "Is everybody happy with their food?"

Unintelligible murmurs of approval sounded all around.

By the time Daniel finished eating, he was wiggling in his seat again, jostling his seat mate with hip or elbow every few minutes.

"What's with you, Daniel? Got ants in your pants?" Jack asked after Daniel's restless foot knocked against his ankle for the third time. Jack was starting to get worried. This was not the same strong, confident warrior he'd sparred with earlier in the day. Jack wondered what the hell had happened to Daniel in the few hours that had passed to transform him into this jumpy wreck.

"Sorry. Sorry." Daniel stilled instantly, but Jack could see that the man was strung out like a junkie needing a fix. His shoulders were up around his ears, his head bobbing about, eyes scanning the restaurant over the top of his shades, fingers drumming on the table, mouth drawn up tight. He looked like he might explode at any moment.

The waitress interrupted to clear away their plates and everyone pulled out their gifts, sliding them toward the guest of honor. Teal'c unwrapped each one carefully, beaming with pleasure as he examined them. Daniel's gift, however, put the rest to shame.

It seemed every day Jack learned something new about his younger teammate that surprised him. The translation wasn't really that big a deal – Daniel could probably translate in his sleep – but the artwork, the extra little touches inside the book that made it beautiful, and getting it bound in that leather cover… it was a gift from his heart, and Jack knew Daniel had a big honkin' heart. 

That was precisely what got him on that memorial wall so many times. Maybe one day his picture would go up there for a final time, but they all took that risk, every day. It went with the job.

Daniel was fidgeting again – not that Jack had seen him relaxed for a moment the entire evening. Warning bells went off in Jack's head as he watched Daniel say a quick goodbye and practically dash out of the restaurant. Daniel was the type to linger at good-byes, not hurry through them. Something was definitely wrong with the man.

Still, this was Teal'c's night and Jack let it wind down at its own pace. Discussion turned to Daniel's odd behavior and Jack promised the others to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering their missing teammate. Cake, ice cream and a bawdy limerick broke the somber mood, and soon enough they were standing on the sidewalk, saying their goodbyes.

Jack strolled away with his head down in thought, trying to figure out the little hints and tugs that had been nagging at his consciousness all day, all centered around Daniel. He climbed into his truck and started the engine, driving down Tejon Street toward the roads that would take him home, stopping by Wal-Mart for a few things he needed. 

He put away the sundries he'd picked up and returned to the fireplace to peruse the commendations once more. Smiling to himself, he hoped his younger teammate hadn't guessed the surprise coming tomorrow. Carter's Wall and the Medal of Freedom would be fine tributes to the man, whom Jack had come to respect after their initial meeting. Daniel Jackson was far deeper than he appeared on the surface and Jack was pleased to call the man his friend.

Turning away, he strolled toward the stairs and up to his bedroom, dressing for bed with the events of the next day scrolling through his mind. Security was high and everyone was on alert for the slightest inconsistency, which brought Daniel's recent behavior back into focus. Something was troubling the man, and as soon as the VIPs were gone, Jack would sit Daniel down for a talk.

He slipped under the covers, rolled over onto his side, and closed his eyes with a sigh. It had been a long day, but tomorrow would be longer and he needed what sleep he could get. Only with concern about Daniel nagging at him, rest did not come quickly or easily.

In time, after much tossing and turning, Jack O'Neill finally slipped into uneasy dreams.

**The End**

  


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> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to Jude for the astute alpha and wonderful friendship. She deserves an author credit on this story after more than 120 pages of commentary, but modestly declined because that's the kind of gal she is.  
>    Thanks to Shazzz for the lovely beta! You made some great catches for me.  
>    The subject matter of this story cannot fully be covered in a single day's span of time, which is the time period this story encompasses. A second story was necessary to bring the events herein described to resolution. Stay tuned for Night Watch.

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> © 7 February 2004 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

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